------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER V GRAY'S INN The morning was yet young when Sir John Jefferay entered the library at Gray's Inn. It was a noble room with a splendid vaulted roof. All around were bookshelves laden with heavy volumes; above the shelves were portraits of famous lawyers, and some few statesmen whose names were associated with the history of the Inn. The floor was thickly carpeted, and scattered here and there were tables strewn with documents and parchments. Sir John seemed ill at ease this morning; he did not seat himself, nor did his books and papers seem to have any attraction for him. He walked to and fro in the spacious room, his hands crossed behind his back, his grave but handsome face bore the look of one in trouble or in deep reflection. He was clad in a suit of rich black velvet, the sombreness of which was relieved by a ruff of spotless whiteness around the neck and wristbands of delicate lace of the same colour. A tap at the door awoke him from reflective mood, and as the door opened, and Susan Jefferay appeared, a welcoming smile dispelled the gloom from the Treasurer's anxious face. And no wonder; for not only was Susan the darling of the childless Treasurer's heart, but her winsome presence, her bright smile and merry, dancing eyes were to him like a gleam of sunshine which dispels the clouds from a dark sky. "Good news! good news! dear uncle," she cried, as she ran up to him with outstretched hands. "Dr. Barnes has been with the boys for the last hour, and I have helped him to dress their wounds; he says I am as clever at it as many a young surgeon. And they are both doing well—much better than he had dared to hope for. "There is no fever in their blood, he says, and they need but good nursing and careful feeding to be as strong and well as they ever were, and that in a very few days' time." "I thank God for that!" said the Treasurer fervently. "I could not sleep last night," he continued; "the sight of their poor gashed and lacerated bodies was ever before my eyes." "And yet no vital point was touched by the murderous knives," replied Susan. "Oh, how good Heaven has been to us! But, dear uncle, you look very wearied and sad this lovely morning; now, tell me at once, and tell me truly, have you breakfasted?" Sir John laughed lightly as he looked on her smiling face. "No, my child, I have not yet touched food; but I will go now to the breakfast room with you, for you must need refreshment as much as I." The dwelling rooms of the Treasurer closely adjoined the library, and presently Sir John and Susan were seated at a well-spread table. For half-an-hour they lingered there, Susan attending to all her uncle's needs with loving care. "Now I will go and see the boys," said Sir John, rising from his seat.